


Vices and Virtues

by ddotmac



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-01-20 19:44:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddotmac/pseuds/ddotmac
Summary: Locus stumbles into an alternate dimension where the mistakes he’s made have yet to be written. He can’t help but notice the characters are the same, but the cast is somewhat different.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Sam carefully examined the gateway against the wall. It was glowing green and gold and spinning counterclockwise. The edges were white and rippled outwards. He blinked. He had definitely removed all of the nonessential devices from the ship. This wasn’t something it could be fabricating. This couldn’t possibly be real. 

Tentatively, he stuck out a hand and pushed against the wall, hoping for resistance, and nearly jumping when it gave. His whole arm went through, feeling chilly on the other side, but perfectly dry and normal except for where the.. the portal (_what the hell?_) touched his arm.

In went his arm, then one leg, cautiously, and rocking himself through the wall, his torso and other two limbs.

The scene he found himself in was rocky and murky. The chill and dampness in the air were inescapable, but the eerie glow was somewhat comforting and Sam knew this was a place on Chorus. He heard a ‘tsk’ from the other room and tensed up, reaching for anything to defend himself, having nothing adequate. “If I get distracted by that sound one more time,” said a muttered voice through gritted teeth. Footsteps approached. “Lucas, I thought I told you to—“

He locked eyes with Sam and froze. Sam quickly realized it was Isaac, wearing Scout armor that was silver on grey, hair neatly greased back and two long parallel scars running down his face, tracing from the tips of his eyebrows and ending at about his nose level. Sam’s jaw worked a bit at this.

He remembered the hollow scrape of metal against bone. The pulsing, inescapable pain. How he’d screamed and the blood had poured down his cheeks. How he’d gotten blackout drunk on account of not having enough anesthesia and realizing the scar was there after he’d woken up. How it sort of broke his heart a second time. Here was someone else, after all these years, who understood.

Isaac stammered, then shook his head a few times and grabbed Sam by the shoulders, wheeling him into one of the rooms on the side. “Come on, come on, mustn’t let anyone see you.”

* * *

“So, wait. You go by...” 

“Helix.”

“With an ‘h’?”

“I believe that was exceedingly clear. Why do you ask?”

Sam leaned back in his chair, wincing at the squeak from the well-worn office life. “Mine just went by Felix. It’s weird to think of him as anything else.”

Helix laughed, not looking up from his tinkering. “Have a real name as my code name? Please. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Well, mine was Locus, and I wholeheartedly agree.” He examined his work, or at least as much as he could see from this distance. “I was never an inventor, though.”

“No?” Helix said, looking up. “Then what did you do that Felix didn’t know about?” The acid in his tone was unmistakable.

Sam frowned and glared in the opposite direction. “...I wrote music.”

“Well, there you go.”

He peeked through the gap made by the door, the greenish glow from the portal dazzling on the floor next to his feet. “So what was the purpose of that thing?” He said, glancing back trepidatiously. “I’m assuming you built it.”

Helix chuckled. “Very astute, Locus.”

“Just Sam is fine.”

Helix froze and his lips drew back in a grimace. “You can’t be serious,” he said slowly, turning over his shoulder. Sam was acutely aware of the chill all of a sudden.

“O-of course, I.. does yours...not—?” He was trying to make sense of what he was hearing. They stared at each other for a few moments as the gears clicked in some way and Sam asked, “When.. is this?”

Helix’s eyes seemed to light up. “Oh, excellent. I was sort of hoping you would be from the future,” he said, setting down his tools and finally turning to face Sam completely. “How fortunate that I find one just as I was about to give up.”

Sam blinked. “One..?”

“I’ve been sifting through different dimensions for hours, trying to find anything that works,” he said, gesturing vaguely to some papers on the wall that meant nothing to Sam, but he was sure were very impressive. “Remarkably, I seem to be one of the only...” He paused and disdainfully choked out, “Ahem. ‘Isaacs,’ as it were, with our personality.” He said his name below his breath, less afraid of someone else hearing and more unwilling to acknowledge its existence.

Sam felt a little naked not wearing armor on Chorus, especially in the presence of someone else who was doing so. “What did you need from the future?”

Helix pushed his hair back with his hand. “Well, I understand the unlikelihood of our timelines working in exactly the same patterns, but I suppose I was hoping for some sort of wisdom. Some idea of how the events on Chorus are going to unfold.”

Sam’s mouth dried. “You...” He was scrambling for composure. “You just started the job?”

“Yes,” Helix said coolly. “Am I to believe that you have finished it?”

Sam’s jaw worked. “Uh. Yeah,” he worked out finally. “W-would you mind if I did a sort of, uh, a litmus test to see how similar our timelines are?”

“Of course. Fire away.”

“When did you meet Lucas?”

“We went to high school together, but lost contact until we discovered that we both enlisted in the UNSC. We began working together shortly after being discharged.”

“How was Mason Wu involved?”

Helix shifted uncomfortably. “He used to work with us until him and Lucas had a falling out.”

“Not to pick open a fresh wound - believe me, I get it - but how’d you, uh.. get the scar?”

“On a job,” Helix all but snapped, lips pursed and his gaze decisively turned away from Sam’s. “From an old friend.”

“Okay, same here,” he went on. “Oh, uh, who do you work for?”

“Malcom Hargrove?”

“No, no, I meant which of the generals are you pretending to work under.”

“Oh. General Christiansen of the Federal Army.”

The formality felt so jarring and yet so, so appropriate for the kind of person Helix must be. “It would seem that our timelines are, ahem, similar enough. I feel pretty confident saying I know exactly how the job will go.”

“Excellent,” Helix said, spinning around and putting his elbows on his knees. “What advice would you offer?”

Sam clasped his hands together and said what he wished someone would’ve told him sooner. “Lucas is going to die.”

There was a stunned pause. “What?” Helix said, incredulously.

“Yeah.” Sam looked him in the eyes. “And you’re gonna kill him.”

A long silence passed and Helix broke into laughter, bending over in his chair. “I never took you for the joking sort,” he said, words spread across giggles. When he opened his eyes again, he looked back at Sam, and the look of concern shut him up almost instantly. “I would never kill him,” he said seriously.

“Isaac.” He ignored the glare he got in response. “He’s using you.”

“Helix!”

The blood drained from Helix’s face. Without making a sound, he grabbed Sam by the shoulders and shoved him into a closet, closing the door as best he could. He fumbled to stand upright, but allowed it to happen.

“Why is your thingy still on?”

“I believe I asked you to turn it off.”

“Yeah, well, that’s on you for assuming I was watching when you showed me how to do it.”

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. “Fine,” Helix said, and marched out of the room. There was the sound of it whirring and powering down.

_No, no, no, shit!_

Helix re-entered the room, looking cross. “Is there something you needed?” he said, monotone.

“Just wanted to know if you found anything useful.”

A moment’s hesitation, disguised as thought. “Mm.. no. No one who wandered in offered anything satisfactory.” Sam’s eyebrows jumped.

“Damn. Can you try again tomorrow?”

The sound of shuffling papers. “That depends on if the general decides to start doling out orders anytime soon.”

Lucas burst out laughing. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.” There was some shouting from below deck. Lucas sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Ooh. Crew’s gettin’ rowdy. I think it’s your turn, buddy.”

Helix blew a hair out of his face and stamped out of the room. Sam peered through the tiny slats in the door, hoping that they weren’t enough to see him. “Man, what does he get up to in here,” Lucas mused to himself, picking up a screwdriver and examining it as though it could be the key to unraveling Helix’s entire psyche. He looked around and began opening drawers and shuffling papers around. Sam’s heart beat faster as he scrupulously examined every surface and container.

Abruptly, Lucas opened the cabinet, making Sam’s arms fly up in defense. Their identical eyes locked, and slowly, they came to.

“Oh,” said Lucas. His eyebrows furrowed. “So he _was _lying.”

Sam began stammering, desperately buying himself time to come up with a lie. “Look, I-I don’t know what’s going on here, I just came through this thing and then you guys were here and it freaked me out and I’ve been hiding in this cabinet. I don’t know what’s going on or how I got here, but he doesn’t know I’m here, and please don’t tell him.” He ended the statement by cutting himself off abruptly, biting his lip convincingly, and hoping that was enough.

“Hey hey hey, chill out, it’s okay,” Lucas said, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Come on out, it’s okay. Nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

Sam stepped out of the cabinet and Lucas led him to a chair. He patted himself all over, holding his hands up in the air. “Look, see? No weapons.”

“You keep a knife on the small of your back,” Sam replied. Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “I know you better than that.”

Lucas looked momentarily afraid before laughing it off. “Damn, you’re good. I guess great minds think alike.”

Sam said nothing.

“Want a cig?”

“I’d love one,” Sam blurted out and accepted it, and the subsequent flame from Lucas’s offering hand. “Won’t he smell the smoke?”

Lucas scoffed. “Nah, we’re fine. It’s cool to meet another.. y’know. Lucas.”

“It’s Locus, actually,” Sam coughed, the burn in his lungs foreign but the only thing keeping him stable. “Not that it matters.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam took another drag. He’d smoked all of three times in his life, and this was the third; once at a party in high school (it didn’t go well for him) and once right after Mason left and he found himself alone at a bar. It was easier then, and easier still now. He didn’t like that. “No one calls me that anymore,” he said plainly at last.

“What, d’you go by Sam?” Lucas said incredulously, scoffing. Sam grunted his affirmation and Lucas’s jaw hung open a little. “Uh.” He laughed a little, in that way Isaac always did that was really just a mask for fear, and often a precursor for anger. “I need a drink.”

Sam made another gentle affirming noise and turned back to the desk, pensive.

“You want anything?”

“Uh, no thanks, I don’t drink.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Are you sure we’re the same person?” he called out acidly.

He returned with a can of beer and sat back down across from Sam, doing a double take at him. He peered curiously, eyebrows slowly furrowing, and Sam panicked for a moment. “Oh,” he said after a minute. “The.. scar.”

“So Helix.. didn’t—?”

“No, actually, that..” his mouth dried suddenly. The scrutiny on Lucas’s face was irrefutable and it made Sam squirm.

Lucas shifted in his chair. He had the same expression Isaac always did when he was close to realizing something. Sam didn’t like the way it looked on his face. “You seem a lot more similar to him,” he said pensively, narrowing his eyes. “Is that.. possible?”

“I mean, I-I don’t know,” Sam said, trying to feign ignorance. “Your guess is as good as mine. What exactly is he trying to accomplish by looking for... for uses from alternate dimensions?”

Lucas sneered and rolled his eyes. “He thinks we can find the secret to winning the war this way. I think he’s full of it.”

“I mean, it’s not a _terrible_ idea—“

“Of course it is,” Lucas snapped. “We need to rely on our own strength. All this tells me is that he’s scared, and that’s the last thing we need right now.”

Sam took another drag. He’d forgotten just how much Isaac during this time was... what’s the word? Callous? Heartless?

“Not like his crazy ass needs any help to make my life difficult.”

Shitty. That was it.

“Listen, could you help me get back?” he interrupted, not wanting to listen any longer than he had to.

“You heard me say I don’t know how,” Lucas said earnestly, shrugging. “And he’ll be suspicious if I ask him to turn it back on now. Maybe you can just wait until he does it again himself?”

Sam tapped his chin. “I’m worried about the ramifications of me staying here for too long.”

There was a quiet knock at the door. “Lucas? Are you in there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I aware that this story is full of random details from What Happened that have nothing to do with canon? Yes. Is this WH canon-compliant? No. Do I know that’s ridiculous? Yes. Is this because I can’t write about Locus anymore without including my personal headcanons? You betcha.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucas and Sam glanced at each other. “U-uh, yeah, I’m in here!” Sam called back at last, making Lucas glare at him. He hauled Sam to his feet and dragged him back over to the closet, shoving him inside. He took the cigarette out of Sam’s hands and put it out on his pants, never looking away. He gestured between their eyes and closed the door. The message was clear. _ You’re a joke. You’re just Helix’s clone in my body. _ ** _I’m _ ** _ the real Sam. _

It made Sam’s skin crawl how similar they were, how Lucas’s eyes narrowed exactly like Isaac’s did. He always thought it made him look like a snake locking on to prey and calculating how it should strike. He watched as Lucas lounged in the chair he had just been sitting in, its horrible screech as he leaned back and took another drag. Helix opened the door holding some papers and looked up over the top of them, at first bored, immediately turning incredulous. “Did y-- are you smoking in my lab?!”

Lucas shrugged, throwing one arm over the back of the chair nonchalantly. “What’s it to you?”

“There’s delicate equipment in here! Are you kidding me? Get out!” he shouted, pushing Lucas out of the chair and practically chasing him out the door. He frantically waved the papers around, trying to fan the smoke away, and Sam felt a pang of remorse. He worried the scorch mark on the outer thigh of his pants between two fingers. 

He tried to shuffle closer to the closet inconspicuously, frowning at the air a few feet away and continuing to wave his papers. “He didn’t see you, did he?” he hissed under his breath.

“I don’t think so,” Sam whispered in response. He was experienced in juggling lies, albeit nowhere near as experienced as Felix, but this was getting a little ridiculous. It was within his nature to attempt to gain as much information as possible before choosing a side, but guilt gnawed at him with the quiet admission that he already knew exactly whose side he was on. 

He knew exactly how to stop it. He’d fallen for the _ exact _same thing, hook, line, and sinker. Why was it so hard to say something?

“I can get you home,” he breathed with a frustrated scowl. “But you might have to lay low for a while. Can you do that?”

Sam’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he realized that he didn’t exactly have a choice. “Sure. Whatever you need to take care of this.” 

Helix hesitated for just a moment, just long enough for Sam to figure out what thoughts were rampaging through his identical psyche. He bit his lip and stared off a thousand feet away, movements not stopping but slowing down like a dying man attempting to swim in the frozen sea. He knew without asking that his heart was suddenly pounding against the walls of his chest, his throat suddenly hot and dry.

“Is something wrong?” Sam asked quietly, in spite of the fact that the answer was clearly yes.

Helix frowned and lowered his arms, apparently having decided that the coast was clear. “I think that.. it would be irresponsible of me not to consider the validity of your advice.” _ Turning the situation on its head so he’s still in control. Classic me move. _“Would you be willing to provide me with some more details?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to go cold. “I-I mean, I just worry about, you know, causing a paradox--”

“It’s a different dimension. Not a paradox.” He worked his jaw a little bit and glared at the floor. “I sincerely need your help. Please.”

Sam blinked. He _ never _ would have admitted weakness. Never mind begging. 

Could this be what would happen if he had actually tried to change sooner?

Remembering himself, he opened the closet doors and allowed Sam to step out, wanting to stretch but unwilling to break the palpable tension in the room. “Am I seriously going to kill him?” he mumbled as though he was really hoping Sam wouldn’t hear, his eyes shining and worried and almost.. innocent. It was the same fear that had carried Sam’s feet as he reached forward to throw the SAW down at Isaac’s feet. He knew. He was possibly the only person in the universe who understood.

“Yes,” Sam responded at last, and it was as though the string that was holding Helix’s chest up was cut suddenly, but he wasn’t relieved. It was like he had found a way to take a larger breath inside of an iron maiden, with still no hope of escape. “It won’t be for a few years, give or take, but he won’t survive this job.”

“And me?”

“You won’t ever be the same person again.” When Helix’s eyebrows furrowed with worry, Sam shrugged slightly in a way he hoped was encouraging. “It’s for the best.”

“For the best?” Helix blurted out, fury written all over his face. “I’m in my prime. I’m wildly rich and successful. I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“But you don’t, do you?”

Helix grabbed the collar of Sam’s shirt and dragged him down the few inches it took to get in his face. “I’m a _ soldier,” _he snarled, and it made Sam’s heart sink. “I don’t have time to waste debating the morality of it all. This is my job, and I’m going to do it.”

He ripped himself away and turned around, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. Sam squared his jaw. “But are you happy?”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m happy,” Helix responded, the words autonomous, rehearsed. “I’m a soldier.” He folded his arms and glared slightly over his shoulder. “Like you.”

Sam paused. Blinked. Turned those words over in his mind. Shook his head gently, as if to chase away the memory.

“What.. did you just say?”

There was a knock at the door.

Helix grabbed his helmet and slammed it on, disappearing without a trace. 

“Anybody in here?” Lucas called quietly, peeking through the crack in the door before opening it wider. “Oh, good. It’s just you. Where’s Helix at?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Sam replied, face burning red. 

Lucas squinted. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m just.. sorry, I’m a little nervous about all of this,” he said, swallowing. “I’m worried about what’ll happen if I don’t get home.” 

“Look, I’m sure we can figure out how to trick Helix into turning the thing back on together,” Lucas responded, touching Sam’s arm gently. “He hasn’t given up yet, he’s bound to turn it back on sometime. Right now we just need to--”

He was cut off by a knife that glinted in Sam’s peripheral vision for only half a moment before embedding itself in the space just above Lucas’s collarbone. Blood spurted slightly from the wound as his eyes slowly rolled back and he collapsed to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

"What is the matter with you?!" Sam screamed, recoiling in spite of himself.

"Me?" Helix sputtered, incredulously. "What's the matter with _you? _You lied to me!" He tugged the knife from Lucas's flesh, still invisible, as the color drained from Sam's face. "I figured I would just get a head start on my supposed future."

"Surely you don't think he's dead from just that," Sam said, head spinning, any particular subject impossible to pin down.

"Not yet." He put his foot on his chest and pressed gently, making a little more blood ooze from the wound. "I give it five minutes."

Sam's jaw worked and his hands fluttered over Lucas's body. "I-- this-- this isn't how it was supposed to happen."

"Well, then enlighten me," Helix snapped, ripping off his helmet and deactivating the camouflage unit. He pursed his lips at Sam, foot still propped up on Lucas's chest.

Sam's gaze flickered from Helix's eyes to Lucas's slowly dying body back to Helix. "It-- can we-- can you please stop standing on him and let me patch him up?"

"Why?" Helix exclaimed, smiling in a way that made Sam want to grimace. "If he's so bad, then there shouldn't be anything wrong with letting him die right now."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "I thought you didn't trust me."

"I _did." _He pressed down again, letting the blood trickle down Lucas's shoulder. "You want to regain that trust? Give me one good reason why I should wait until his time."

"Because you have to change as a person first!"

"Oh, come _on--"_

"You _know _it's not that simple, because you _want _him to die," Sam interrupted, and Helix froze. He suddenly very much wished he hadn't taken his helmet off. "You're mad about the way he treats you and you won't tell him because you're afraid."

"Shut up," Helix said under his breath. His hands started to shake.

"Why? Don't like the truth?"

Helix gritted his teeth and shoved his way into Sam's face for the second time that day. "You're being ridiculous," he hissed. "If you killed your version of him, it's because you're short-sighted and disobedient!"

"Do you even hear how you sound?" Sam went on undeterred, voice rising. "The only person who benefits from this is him! You think like this because he wants you to!"

Sam ducked preemptively, sidestepping Helix's attempt to pin him to the wall. He started running as soon as he recovered from the feint, making sure to step carefully over Lucas's body before running down the hall.

"Get back here! If you leave now, you'll be trapped here forever!"

That thought had definitely crossed his mind, but he was sort of running out of options. It would have been so nice if he could have convinced Helix to end this before it began.

He probably should have known himself better than that.

That being said, it was an uncharacteristically stupid decision for him to burst through the first external door he could find, skidding down a hill and only coming to a stop when he knew the trees would conceal him until he came up with a plan. _Okay, _he thought, _so I'm on a planet in the middle of a civil war with no armor, no weapons, and no allies. _He swallowed. _No pressure._

But now this was a race against time. How quickly could he change the course of the timeline, singlehandedly, while managing to dodge Lucas and Helix - and all of this assuming that he could survive in this dimension, of course - in a way that would allow his tragedies to never happen in the first place?

Well, no one ever suspects the stupid.

* * *

"Hi, sorry to show up unannounced, but the general said my armor was here for repairs and I'm here to pick it up."

The soldier at the counter narrowed her eyes. "And who might you be?"

"Riley Mendez," he responded without skipping a beat.

She pursed her lips and scanned a clipboard in front of her. "I'm not seeing anything," she said in a tone of voice that meant she really wasn't expecting to. "Why aren't you in the system?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak when another soldier came out and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, V," he said soothingly. "They just entered an influx of recruits and a bunch of people aren't in the system yet." He smiled warmly at Sam. "You wouldn't happen to know your armor's serial number, would you?"

"Uh, no, sir."

"Didn't think so. That's alright," he said, giving the counter a few gentle pats. "I'll go see about getting you a temporary suit. Wait here." As he walked away, he leaned down to the first soldier and whispered, "You know, the point of this is to teach you patience."

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Something happen?" Sam finally decided to ask after a long, terse moment.

The soldier scoffed. "Well, if you must know, I'm in a bit of hot water for talking back to a superior, but this isn't _fair. _I'm not supposed to be in here, I'm supposed to be taking the fight to the feds!" She put her head in her hands and shook it a few times, as if to dissolve her anger. "Sorry. This just sucks. It's Riley, right?"

"Yes," he responded, starting to shift his weight between the balls of his feet. "And... you are?"

She harrumphed quietly. "Vanessa. Kimball. It's a fuckin' pleasure."

Sam did his very best not to react to that. He'd never seen Kimball's face - not to mention how young she must have been now - and her voice was almost unrecognizable, but it was as he'd feared. She seemed so full of passion and energy. This war had taken so much from her.

Before Sam could dwell too long on the stab of guilt in his chest, the first soldier returned wheeling a dolly with an empty suit of armor in it. "Here we are!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth, breathing out in relief when he set the thing down. "Should do in a pinch. And you'd better hurry," he said, half-chastising. "You never know when something's gonna happen."

He didn't need the warning. He stepped into the suit quickly, snapping on the helmet. He would have preferred one without a glass visor, but it would have to do. "Thank you," he said. "Who should I report to about fixing my enlistment status?"

"There's an office for that," the soldier responded, pointing. "About a quarter of a mile down that road and on the right. Tiny little building with a folding table out front. Can't miss it."

Sam thanked them and left, shifting around in the cheap, somewhat uncomfortable armor. Even the standard issue fed suits were a little nicer than this.

He made his way into the office and repeatedly assured the flustered attendant that he really didn't mind filling out the paperwork again. The lies came easily enough. The important thing would be remembering them later.

* * *

"Hey," he said as casually as possible, sliding into the seat across from Kimball. She glared up from her food, helmet off; her eyes were young and burning with fresh rage, and her hair was choppily cut as though she had done it herself. "Is it okay if I sit here?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't protest, so he made himself comfortable. The familiar taste of the MRE made memories of his own time in the war come flooding back. He scrunched up his face, making Kimball laugh. "Not used to eating food scraped out of the shitter, I take it?"

"Not just yet," he said, forcing himself to continue chewing. "Some of them aren't quite this bad, right?"

A solid minute of silence passed while Kimball stared at the wall, eyes unfocused. "The Salisbury steak's okay," she responded at last. Any mirth that might have been on her face drained completely and something that might have been shame crossed it for a moment. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, grasping at words. "You.. risked a lot to be here, huh?"

Sam's face paled. "I mean, defecting from the feds this late in the game, that's-- it's suicide," she went on, refusing to meet his gaze and pushing a strand of her messy hair behind her ear. "You must have a lot of passion for this conflict, huh?"

He exhaled, just barely containing how relieved he felt. "Yeah, I, um." He floundered momentarily. "It's been. A rough time."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Sam shook his head, shoveling down another mouthful of food. Kimball returned to looking at her own plate. "Of course, sorry."

Sam tried desperately to ignore the jab of guilt he felt. "You don't need to apologize to me."


End file.
